Night Terrors
by Shotzette
Summary: There's got to be a morning after...


Night Terrors  
Rated R  
By Shotzette  
  
This is a work of fanfiction and was written for enjoyment purposes only.  
I'm not making a nickel off this, and it's not intended to infringe on  
copyrights held by Paramount, ABC, or any othe person or entity.  
  
The first thing Laverne DeFazio felt upon awakening was heat. Extreme heat coming from behind her. The second and third sensations she felt were dizziness and nausea, respectively.  
  
She forced open her heavy eyelids and winced as the morning light conquered her retinas. After a few deep breaths, she felt brave enough to try opening her eyes again. The view that greeted her made her year for the blindingly bright light.  
  
Jeffrey, laying next to a pair of discarded boxer shorts, looking past her with his dead iguana eyes.  
  
Oh God...  
  
She clenched her eyes tightly shut, and willed herself to wake up from her nightmare. Unfortunately even with her eyes closed, the pervasive odors of licorice, chocolate, and feet; reinforced the reality of her location. A quick peek underneath the woolen blanket that covered her midsection confirmed her nudity, making the nightmare complete.  
  
Furiously, Laverne racked her alcohol-abused brain for an answer.  
  
The Pizza Bowl.  
  
Last night, the crowd from Shotz was at the Pizza Bowl celebrating Sylvia Schmidt's retirement after thirty-five years of bottle capping. Kaleidescope images of friends dancing wildly, endless empty beer mugs, and a green-tinted bottle being offered to her by Redneck George in Packaging coalesced before her eyes.  
  
Groping further back into the fog, she remembered the stuff in the green bottle had tasted sweet, like strawberries. There had been strawberries in the bottle, she remembered suddenly. Or some sort of red, lumpy, chunks; she reasoned as the contents of her stomach threatened to make an encore.  
  
She took a few more deep breaths, then let loose a small sigh of relief when the gurgling noises in her belly stopped. With her stomach, temporarily if nothing else, back under control, Laverne once again tried to remember more details about the previous night.  
  
Why had she been talking to George, she wondered? She couldn't stand the guy.  
  
She remembered most of yesterday as clear as a bell. She had overslept and put a run in her new hose as she dressed hurriedly, had suffered through another Friday lunch of Shirley's bad tuna salad, and then got into it with Sheila Lipschitz over who's fault it was that a gross of bottles had to be re-capped. It had been a typical Friday.  
  
Until the five o'clock whistle, that was. She and Shirley had hurried straight to the Pizza Bowl from Shotz, since they had promised to help her Pop with the party decorations. I probably should have had something to eat instead of heading straight for the tap, Laverne chided herself with the wisdom of 20/20 hindsight.  
  
After her repeated trips to the keg, things got sort of blurry. She vaguely remembered enjoying herself and making the rounds, while she and Shirley tried to make sure everyone else was having a good time.  
  
Dancing.  
  
She also remembered a lot of dancing, as her queasy stomach begged her to forget the excessive twirling. She danced with Barney from Labeling, Murray from Packaging, Ed from the assembly line, and even, she remembered with a shudder, Redneck George.  
  
Why had she been dancing so much? It's not like her feet weren't sore after standing all day, or any of those guys interested her in the least little bit? Especially Redneck George.  
  
Lenny.  
  
She'd been surprised when he and Squiggy showed up at the party. None of the other drivers had come, and Sylvia had always been fairly vocal--and loud--in voicing her dislike of the two. Then again, she surmised, when had the guys ever let contempt stand between them and a free meal?  
  
She had purposefully avoided him ever since he had told her he loved her a few months ago. Of course, she had given him her best guy friend speech, and she was pretty sure he believed it and had given up. But why take chances? She said a perfunctory "hello" as she passed their table, and made sure she didn't make eye contact with him.  
  
It turned out she had nothing to worry about.  
  
Lenny spent most of the evening in the company of Monica Rizchyck. Or as Laverne had referred to her on numerous occassions, Goat-face.  
  
She remembered getting angrier and angrier as she watched them dance. Was this Lenny's way of coping with rejection? Telling her to her face that they were just friends, then using a two-legged farm animal to make her jealous? He was so immature!  
  
To add insult to injury, he hadn't even looked her way as she flounced past him with a never-ending string of partners.  
  
That's how she ended up talking to Redneck George! The momentary surge of triumph was almost replaced by a surge of bile, before she forced her body back to stillness in the cramped bed.  
  
George had been standing by the counter, with lovelorn adoration on his face when he looked at Goat-face, and near murderous rage when he looked at Lenny. Not surprising, when she thought about it. Redneck George looked like the type who would find romance in a barnyard. She and George had been commiserating when he had pulled out the green bottle, which he claimed was a souvenir from a recent trip home to Kentucky.  
  
Try as she might, Laverne couldn't remember anything past that point.  
  
Her priorities suddenly shifted as she felt an arm snake around her naked waist, followed by a masculine mumble fom behind her.  
  
Oh God...  
  
Did you think you'd be lucky enough to wake up alone here considering the circumstances, a little voice in her head asked, meanly.  
  
Well, she reasoned to herself, apparently some time last night, Lenny had ditched Goat-face and she had escaped Redneck George. And apparently, she and Lenny were now more than friends.  
  
Now what? How could she give him the "just friends" speech, again, with any conviction? And, did she want to?  
  
She shook the ridiculous notion away. Yeah, right. Her and Lenny. She'd never hear the end of it from Shirley, not to mention, everyone else.  
  
Not that Lenny was a bad guy, she hastily reminded herself. He was just...different. Real different. Beyond unique and original combined. Not that being different was necessarily bad, just...difficult on a daily basis.  
  
He wasn't even really bad looking, she thought. He was nice and tall, so high heels wouldn't be an issue. A few crooked teeth, here and there, but who noticed teeth when you were looking into to those very nice blue eyes? Besides, she reasoned, if you hosed him down and finally scrubbed all that disgusting grease out of his hair, he'd be presentable. That, and keeping Squiggy at a hundred yard minimum distance at all times.  
  
Squiggy.  
  
The fact that he was Lenny's best friend was enough to permanently label Lenny as un-datable. Lenny picked up all of Squiggy's worst traits. Even worse than that, he let Squiggy drag him around by the nose.  
  
At that point, she added "not too bright" to her ever-growing list of Lenny's shortcomings. She never thought she'd ever understand his tolerance of Squiggy. Without him, she realized, Lenny could have really done something with his life.  
  
Then the truth hit her. Without Lenny, Squiggy would have no one. No one at all. God only knows what would have become of him if he didn't have Lenny's friendship to rely upon.  
  
Lenny had a heart of gold. He could get angry, like anyone else, but the boy didn't have a malicious bone in his body. He'd do anything for Squiggy. He was probably the only person in that creep's life who actually cared about him.  
  
A flush of embarrassment crept up Laverne's face. Squiggy wasn't the only friend Lenny treated well. Who had proposed to her years ago when she thought she was in trouble? Who risked his job defending her honor from his jerk of a foreman? Who held her hand as she worried about Shirley's appendectomy? Who helped her come to terms with her mother's death?  
  
She was lucky to have him as a friend. Hell, she'd be lucky to have him as a boyfriend. She winced as the faces of her last several dates flashed before her eyes. How many of the many guys she dated was she even speaking to six months later? Not many. Maybe this was it? Maybe she and Lenny were destined to be together, and last night had just pushed them farther than they ever would have gone otherwise. There was one thing she knew, Lenny Kosnoski was not the love them then leave them type. She grinned as she realized it would be all she could do to stop him from buying an engagement ring that same day.  
  
Laverne's reverie was cut short by the sound of a key turning in the lock. Omigod, she thought with a sickening sensation, I'm not up to dealing with Squiggy right now, as she glanced at the itchy blanket that covered her.  
  
The door swung open, leaving her no place to run and hide. Sticking out her chin, and attempting to gather whatever dignity she had left, Laverne looked up into the eyes of...  
  
Lenny?  
  
Lenny Kosnoski stood in the doorway, his eyes bulging and his jaw halfway to the ground.  
  
Laverne's mouth opened, but no sound came out, as her brain tried to reject the image her eyes were sending it.  
  
Her worst fear was confirmed by a single word.  
  
A flat, nasal voice behind her saying, "Hello".  
  
FIN 


End file.
